The Annals
by Emmie0928
Summary: More than 20 years after Lord Voldemort was defeated, Dudley Dursley finds himself on Platform 9 3/4 with his daughter.
1. Chapter 1

**Year 1**

Dudley Dursley stared at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, wishing it didn't look quite so... solid.

"Dad, come on," his daughter said, tugging on his hand. "I don't want to be late!"

"I don't know if I can do this, Hannah," he said. "What if the barrier doesn't open for me? I am a muggle, after all."

"Dad!" Hannah exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "I already told you that muggles can get through the barrier as long as they know that Platform 9 3/4 exists. I read about it in the chapter about the Hogwarts Express in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Dudley was fairly certain that his daughter had done nothing the entire summer except read that damn book over and over and over again. She must have had the whole thing memorized by now. He honestly didn't know where she had gotten her love of books from. He certainly never read. And he was fairly certain that Hannah's mother had never sat still long enough to get through an entire book before. She was so flighty. He had thought that maybe she would change when she had gotten pregnant with Hannah, that she would marry him and settle down, but she hadn't. She had simply given birth and left the baby with him, saying she wasn't ready be a wife or a mum yet. Then she had disappeared for good. Last he had heard, she was living somewhere in New Zealand.

"Dad!" Hannah whined. "Come on!"

Dudley hoped that Hannah didn't end up like her mother. She seemed to be much more sensible, but sometimes he worried that when she got a little older she would grow into the flightiness and immaturity she was bound to have inherited from her mother.

"Hey, fatty, get out of the way!" a teenage boy called out as he passed by. He and his friends burst out into a round of raucous laughter and Dudley felt his face heating up.

"I've been on a diet," he muttered angrily.

Hannah squeezed his hand. "And you can totally tell," she said. "You look great, Dad."

Dudley smiled down at his daughter. What would he do without her?

He turned back to face the barrier and squared his shoulders. "Let's do this," he said.

Hannah grinned, her pink braces showing. The two of them set off at a brisk pace toward the very solid brick wall in front of them. Dudley squeezed his eyes shut and...

"Dad, open your eyes!"

Dudley's eyes popped open and he found himself staring at a scarlet steam engine, complete with smoke puffing out of the smokestack on top. There were people all around, strange-looking people with cloaks and odd hats.

"Maybe I should have gotten an owl," Hannah said, looking around at the countless bird cages perched on top of trunks.

"You don't need an owl," Dudley said, picking up her trunk. "Owls make awful pets. Complete nuisances."

How do you know?" she demanded, following him as he made his way toward the train.

"My cousin had one," he grunted, heaving the trunk up into an empty compartment.

"I read about him," she said quietly. "Harry Potter. According to my book, he's their savior."

"Yeah, well," said Dudley, unsure of how to respond. It was a bit difficult to think of someone as any kind of savior when you had dunked that person's head in the toilet multiple times as a kid.

Hannah didn't seem to notice his lack of response to her statement. She was too busy staring up at the train nervously.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked. "I thought you were excited about going to school."

"What if I'm rubbish?" she asked, her blue eyes wide. "They'll all know so much more than me."

"Hannah, listen," he said, kneeling down in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You've read every book on magic that you could get your hands on. There's no way those kids will know more than you."

"But..."

"It doesn't matter that you were raised in the muggle world. My cousin was raised by muggles and it obviously didn't hold him back."

She smiled a bit. "True."

He wrapped his arms around her. "You'll do great, kid. You're gonna kick ass."

She hugged him back tightly. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Hannah."

He stood watching as she boarded the train, smiling as she was joined by a girl with pigtails and a boy with ears that were too big for his head. She pressed her forehead up against the window and waved goodbye, as the train began to roll away, picking up speed as it went, until finally it disappeared from sight.

For a minute, Dudley didn't move, staring forlornly at the place where the train had once been. Hannah had never been away from him for more than a night or two before this. And now he wouldn't see her until Christmas. His daughter was only 11 years old and he was already an empty nester.

"Look over there," he heard someone behind him whisper. "It's Harry Potter."

Dudley whipped his head around, his gaze following the pointed fingers until he spotted the person they were pointed at.

Harry Potter was standing next to his wife Ginny on the opposite end of the platform.

For a moment, Dudley considered leaving right then. He didn't really need to say hello to Harry. After all, he hadn't seen him since that day, 25 years before, when the two of them had shook hands and made peace for this first time in their lives. They had exchanged a few letters in the years immediately following that, but soon those had stopped. Dudley had never even told Harry that he had a daughter, as he had been 32 when she was born and that had been long after he and Harry had stopped exchanging letters.

Deciding that saying hello would be the right thing to do, Dudley made his way through the crowd of people and over to his cousin.

"Harry!" he called out.

Harry turned around, and for a second he just stared blankly. Then his mouth dropped open in shock.

"Dudley?" he asked.

Dudley shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled weakly. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, his green eyes wide behind his glasses.

"Dropping my daughter off," Dudley replied. "It turns out she's a witch."

He gave a little chuckle at the sight of his cousin's face.

"That's..." Harry seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Harry, dear," Ginny said. "Are you going to introduce me?"

"Yeah, of course, " Harry said. "Ginny, this is my cousin, Dudley. Dudley, this is my wife, Ginny."

"It's nice to meet you," Dudley said, shaking her hand.

"So is your daughter a first year?" Harry asked.

Dudley nodded.

"Is her mum a witch?"

"Nope, she's a muggle."

"Is she here?" Harry asked, looking around.

Dudley shook his head. "She's not... a part of Hannah's life."

"Are the two of you divorced?" Ginny asked.

"We were never married."

"Ah," Harry said.

Before Dudley could respond, they were joined by two other people, a women with bushy brown hair and a scowling man with red hair.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked the man.

"Rose was snogging that Scorpius Malfoy kid," he muttered angrily.

Scorpius Malfoy. What an odd name, Dudley thought.

"Who's this?" the man asked, noticing Dudley at last.

"My cousin, Dudley," Harry replied. "Dudley, these are my friends, Ron and Hermione."

Ron let out a howl of laughter. "The last time I saw you," he said, "was when we were picking up Harry for the Quidditch World Cup and my brother Fred dropped those Ton-Tongue Toffees. I heard your tongue reached four feet before my dad was able to shrink it back to normal."

"Thank you for bringing that up," Dudley said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Really, it was such a wonderful experience. I wish I could relive it every day."

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ron demanded. "Didn't you people despise magic?"

"My daughter's a witch," Dudley replied stiffly.

"Is she really?" Hermione asked. "How wonderful."

"Did you try to smother it out of her?" Ron asked. "Like your father did to Harry."

Dudley's eyes narrowed. "I'm not my father," he hissed.

"How is Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked.

"Dead," Dudley replied flatly.

"Oh," Harry said. "Er, I'm sorry to hear that."

An awkward silence fell over the group. The crowd of people had started to disperse around them. Only a few stragglers remained, chatting in small groups like their's.

"So is your daughter excited to start at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

Dudley nodded. "She's probably read _Hogwarts: A History_ fifty times this summer."

"Hey," Ron said, "she sounds just like you, Hermione."

"It's a wonderful book," Hermione said, smiling. "Although no too many people actually read it..." She trailed off, looking lost in thought.

"So how are your kids?" Dudley asked Harry.

"They're great," Harry replied. "My oldest son, James, is a seventh year. Albus is in his sixth year and Lily is in her fourth."

Dudley nodded. "Well," he said, glancing down at his watch. "I really need to be going."

"It was nice seeing you," Harry said. "I'll write to my kids and tell them to say hello to your daughter."

Dudley watched as the four of them disappeared back throught the barrier. Before he could follow, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around. A woman he didn't recognize was smiling up at him nervously. She looked to be in her early to mid thirties. Dudley supposed she was pretty, though rather plain, with short blonde hair and a pastel sweater set.

"Er, can I help you?" he asked.

The woman blushed. "This is going to sound completely mental," she said, "but I saw you talking to Harry Potter and I was wondering what he's like."

"Oh," he said, taken aback "Erm, I don't..."

"I wanted to go up to him and say something, but I was too nervous."

Dudley lifted an eyebrow. "Okaayy."

"Did you get his autograph?" she asked.

"Of course not!" he snapped. "Why in the world would I do that!"

She took a step back. "Oh," she said. "Well I... I only meant... I mean, he is the savior."

"Right," Dudley said, feeling bad about snapping her. She seemed perfectly nice. A little strange maybe, but still nice. "Erm, you should say hello to him next time you see him. He's a really nice bloke."

"Really?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I saw my son sit down in the same compartment as your daughter," the woman said.

"Oh?" Dudley said. "Was he the kid with the big ears?"

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You know, Jack is really sensitive about his ears. The other kids are always teasing him. I'm always telling him that he'll grow into them, but he still gets so upset by the remarks he hears. Children can be so insensitive, you know."

Oh yes, Dudley did know. He had been one of those insensitive kids himself. He decided not to mention this little fact to her though. Her impression of him was probably already bad enough.

"Well, my daughter Hannah definitely won't tease him," he said. "She's a lovely girl."

The woman smiled. "I'm Nora," she said, holding out her hand.

"Dudley," he said, shaking it. She had soft hands, he noticed.

"Well," Nora said. "I really need to be going. My husband's probably wondering where I am."

* * *

When he reached the parking lot, Dudley reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Opening it, he discovered it was empty, with only a small piece of paper stuffed inside. He pulled it out and unfolded it.

_Dad,_  
_Remember that you promised to quit smoking. I left some nicotine gum in the kitchen for you._  
_Love, Hannah_

Dudley shook his head, chuckling. Hannah was always looking out for his health, encouraging him to stick to his diet, to quit smoking, to drink less coffee and more tea. Because of her, Dudley had lost 50 pounds over the past few months. He had even started going to the gym.

* * *

When he got home, there was a message from his mum waiting for him on the answering machine.

"Dudley!" Petunia Dursley's shrill voice filled his kitchen. "Call me when you get this message! Immediately!"

Dudley sighed, picking up the phone. His mum answered after only one ring.

"Dudley," she barked. "Where have you been? Why didn't you answer your mobile?"

"It was out of battery."

"Why weren't you home?"

"Mum, it's September 1st. Why do you think I wasn't home?"

Petunia was silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded cold. "I see," she said. "So you're allowing this to happen?"

"Of course I am, Mum," he said, exasperated. "It's who she is."

"It's abnormal!" Petunia hissed.

"I'm done talking about this," Dudley said. "Hannah is my daughter. I can raise her how I please!"

"This is ridiculous," Petunia sputtered. "What would your father say?"

"Well, it doesn't really matter, does it," Dudley replied, his vouce growing louder with each word. "Dad's dead, Mum."

His mum didn't say anything.

"I saw Harry at the train station, "said Dudley, after a minute.

"Did you? she asked, in a falsely polite tone. "How is he?"

"He seems like he's doing well."

"That's nice," Petunia murmured.

"I have to go, Mum."

"Yes, of course. Goodbye Dudley."

Before he could reply, she had hung up. Dudley set the phone down annd looked around. The house seemed strange and empty without Hannah.

He reached for the calender. How many more days were there until Christmas?

* * *

**I'm not really sure why I suddenly felt it was necessary to write a story about Dudley of all people, especially since I have like three other stories I'm working on right now, but I did. This probably isn't even any good, but I really wanted to write it, so here you go.**

**This story is going to have seven chapters total (one for each year of Hannah's time at Hogwarts) and maybe an epilogue.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Year 2**

Dudley couldn't believe that it was already September 1st. It seemed like only yesterday that his daughter had finally come home for the summer, filled with stories about her new friends and ghosts and pictures that talked. And now she was leaving again.

"Don't forget to write to me," he said, leaning down to hug her, as they stood together on Platform 9 and ¾.

She hugged him back, but he could feel her squirming impatiently, ready to run off and find her friends. He let go, giving her one last kiss on the forehead.

"I expect a letter at least once a week!" he called after her, as she took off into the crowd, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth behind her. She didn't reply, just lifted a hand and gave him one final wave goodbye.

He watched as she found her friends, the same girl and boy that she had met on her first day of school the year before. The boy, he noticed, had still not grown into his ears.

"Excuse me," a female voice said. "It's Dudley, isn't it?"

He turned. A woman who looked slightly familiar was standing a few feet away. He stared at her for a moment, trying to place her. "Yeah, that's me."

"Er," she said, "you probably don't remember me. I'm Jack's mother, Nora. We met last year when I asked you about Harry Potter."

"Oh, yeah," he replied, nodding. "I remember." Jack was Hannah's big-eared friend.

"Yes," she said nervously, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Well, I recognized you and thought I'd say hello, since Jack and Hannah are such good friends and all."

"Yeah, they seem to have hit it off really well. Hannah talked about him all summer."

"That's so nice to hear!" Nora said brightly. "Jack talked about her as well. I think he has a bit of a crush," she added, lowering her voice, as if the love lives of twelve year olds were scandalous secrets that needed to be kept hush-hush.

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a man headed in their direction. "Nora!" the man shouted angrily over the din of the crowd. "I've been looking all over for you. Didn't I tell you that we need to be somewhere at 11:30!" He grabbed her arm, squeezing rather tightly, Dudley noticed. "Come on!"

Nora bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Howard. I lost track of time. I was talking to Dudley. He's Hannah's father."

"Who's Hannah?" the man snapped, looking Dudley up and down.

"You know, sweetie, Jack's friend. The sweet, little blonde girl in all those photos of his."

"Nora," the man said, "that's very nice, but if we don't leave now we're going to be late."

Dudley watched as the two of them hurried off, the man still tightly clutching his wife's arm tightly, as if he thought letting go would mean she'd take off in the other direction. Not that he'd blame her if she did. The bloke seemed like a total dick.

* * *

As Dudley pulled into his driveway, he noticed a woman standing on his front step. He squinted. It looked like… No, it couldn't be. Could it?

He got out of the car. The woman turned. He felt his heart speed up. It _was_ her.

"Dudley Dursley!" she called out as he approached the front door, that familiar smile spreading across the face he used to think –still thought – was the prettiest he'd ever laid eyes on.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, brushing past her and unlocking the door. "Jesus, Viv, it's been twelve years."

"Has it really?" she asked, following him inside. "I didn't realize it'd been that long…"

"You forgot how long it's been since you gave birth?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "God, you really haven't changed, have you?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, lifting her chin defiantly. "No, I haven't. I didn't realize I was supposed to."

"Well, Viv, at some point a person has to grow up. I get it, when we met you were nineteen, still high on life and whatever else, glad to be out of Daddy's house and ready to take on the world. But when Hannah was born, you were 27. I was 32. Being a flighty, unreliable mess wasn't cute anymore. And it definitely isn't cute now. You should have married me. It was time to settle down, raise a family, learn some responsibility."

"Not everyone's made for that life, Dudley," she said.

"You had a daughter," he said quietly. "A daughter who needed you. God, do you know how many times I wished that poor girl had her mother around? She started her period this summer. I didn't have a damn clue how to handle that."

"So you never got married?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, never found anyone."

"I got married once," she said. "A few years ago. It lasted five months."

"Lovely," he said. "Now would you mind telling me why the hell you're here?"

"My dad died," she said. "Last week. I flew in for the funeral and I thought I'd stop in and see you before I left again."

"Your dad died?" he asked. "I hadn't heard."

"Yeah," she said. "Heart attack."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Whatever," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "The old bastard was bound to die soon anyway."

That was one thing the two of them had always had in common – extreme bitterness toward their fathers.

"So when does she get home from school?" she asked.

"Who?" he asked, momentarily caught off guard.

"Hannah."

"She comes home at Christmas."

"_Christmas_? Jesus, you act like I'm some kind of horrible person for not raising my daughter, but you shipped her off to boarding school at the first chance you got, did you?"

He glared at her. "She wanted to go to boarding school, Viv! If it was up to me, I would have kept her here forever. That girl is my life, do you understand that? _My life_."

She bit her lip, having the decency, at least, to look a bit ashamed. "God," she said, running her hands through her wild red curls, "I need a cigarette. Do you mind if I bum one off you. I'm all out."

"I quit smoking last year," he said.

"Really?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow. "I suppose that makes sense. You do look…healthier," she added, looking him up and down. "Have you been working out?"

He nodded. "Dieting too," he told her. "I've lost over a hundred pounds."

"That's great," she murmured. "I've been meaning to quit smoking for years. Just never gotten around to it."

"What about the other stuff?" he asked. "Have you quit any of that?"

"The drugs, you mean?"

"Obviously."

"I've been trying, Dudley. I really have. I'm not nearly as bad as I used to be. I met this guy, a few years ago. He's the one I married. Anyway, he was really into living a healthy lifestyle and all that shit. He helped me out a lot."

Dudley sighed, looking around. They were still standing right inside his house, by the front door.

"Do you want to see some pictures of her?" he asked. "Of Hannah, I mean."

She nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."

He led her into the kitchen. "The fridge is covered in them," he told her.

She went and stood in front of the refrigerator, leaning in closer and studying the photos and drawings that seemed to cover every inch of the stainless steel doors.

"She's a very pretty girl," she said after a moment.

"She takes after you," Dudley replied

Viv looked up. "Except for the hair," she said. "She got your blonde hair."

Dudley walked over to where she was standing. "See this one," he said, pointing at one of the photos. "That's the most recent picture of her. I took it when we went to the beach this summer."

In the picture, Hannah was standing at the edge ocean, the waves lapping at her ankles. She was squinting up at the camera, shielding her face with her hand. She was wearing a purple swimsuit and had a goofy smile plastered across her face.

"This is her on her first day of primary school," he said, pointing to another picture, this one taken outside of the muggle school Hannah used to attend before she went to Hogwarts.

"Cute uniform," Viv said. "Plaid suits her."

"This is the two of us a couple years ago out in the front yard. We built a snowman together. It's a bit melted though. We took the picture a few days later."

One by one he explained each photo and each drawing.

"She made this card for me on my birthday this past year. She's a talented artist. Don't know which one of us she got that particular ability from."

"This picture was taken on her first birthday. She got cake all over her face. It was a mess."

"These are a few of her school photos. There isn't one from this past year though. Her boarding school doesn't take them."

"Wow," Viv said, after he had finished explaining them all. "It's like you remember…everything."

"I try to."

She turned to look at him, her green eyes as breathtaking as they'd always been. "I should go," she said.

"When does your plane leave?" he asked.

"Not till tomorrow," she replied. "But if Hannah isn't here, then there's really no point in me staying. I don't want to bother you."

"Where are you staying tonight?" he asked. "Do you have a hotel room?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm staying at my mum's. In my old bedroom, if you can believe it. Never thought I'd go back there."

"You hate your parent's house," he said.

"Yeah, well," she said, picking her purse off the ground. "I spent all the money I had on a plane ticket, so no hotel for me."

"Oh," he said. For a moment, he considered telling her that she could stay at his house for the night, in Hannah's room. But then he thought better of it. She's always been trouble. It would be best to let her go now. Before she did that thing she always used to do, batting her eyelashes and smiling that smile, pulling him into her life again and again.

"You still living in New Zealand?" he asked, as he walked her to the door.

She laughed. "Oh no," she replied. "Haven't lived there for ages. I'm in Amsterdam now."

"Really?"

"Mmm," she murmured. "But I don't think I stay much longer. I owe some people some money and that sort of thing. Plus I'm just getting that itch to leave, you know how it is. "

_No_, he wanted to say. _No, I really don't know how it is. I'm an adult with a stable life. I don't roam the world like you._

Instead, he just nodded and opened the door for her. "Bye Viv," he said, watching as she disappeared from his life once more.

He sighed heavily, walking back into the living and throwing himself down on the sofa. He picked up the remote and tried to distract himself with the television. But it didn't work. After twelve years, that woman had walked back into his life. He had honestly thought he'd never see her again. He should have known better. Viv had a way of doing that, showing up when you least expected it. He leaned his head back against a pillow and kicked his feet up of the coffee table, closing his eyes as the memories came flooding back.

Vivian Thompson-Hill. The girl he'd first laid eyes on when he was twenty-four years old. At a pub somewhere in London. It had been storming badly that day and he had ducked inside to dry off. Viv had been sitting on a stool at the bar and she caught his attention immediately. There was something about her that was intensely striking. Wild red curls that bounced when she threw her head back in laughter. Piercing green eyes that always seemed to be darting about eagerly, as if she wanted to take in everything around her.

He'd watched her from across the bar for at least fifteen minutes, wishing he could work up the courage to talk to her, but failing miserably. In fact, he probably would have never approached her, if it hadn't been for the bloke she was talking to. He started getting a bit too friendly for Viv's taste, and Dudley could tell that she was getting uncomfortable. When she stood up to leave, the man followed her, rather unsteadily, into the rain. Dudley had found them right outside the pub, Viv shouting at the man to leave her alone. But the man didn't listen, just grabbed her arm forcefully and pushed her up against the wall of the building. She let out a shriek and that's when Dudley decided to step in.

"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing the man's shoulder. "Leave her alone!"

The man turned around quickly, letting go of Viv and giving her time to dart across the parking lot. He took a swing at Dudley. Dudley ducked out of the way just in time, and punched the guy in the face. The man stumbled backwards, his nose bleeding, and something in Dudley snapped. He drew his arm, ready to hit him again. But somebody reached out and grabbed him.

"Stop!" a female voice said.

He turned. The girl from the pub was standing there, soaking wet and staring up at him with those huge green eyes of hers.

"Let's get out of here," she said. "That guy's not worth your time."

He never really understood why she chose him of all people. She was so beautiful, so striking. She could have gotten any bloke she wanted. But she picked him. Overweight, no-so-attractive Dudley Dursley. Maybe she was the type of girl that liked being rescued, and the fact that he had punched that guy in the face made him her knight in shining armor or something. She always said that physical appearance meant nothing to her when it came to the opposite sex. "I like guys for what's on the inside," she always said. "And I could tell that you had a good heart."

This had surprised him. Nobody had ever told him that he had a good heart before. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever even been called nice.

But for whatever reason, Vivian Thompson-Hill chose him, Dudley Dursley, to be her boyfriend. And by the following year, they were living together. In that year, he learned everything about her. She was from a very wealthy family. Growing up, her life had always been planned out for her. She attended the most prestigious schools. She hardly had any free time that wasn't taken up by school work, horseback riding, violin or piano lessons, and trips to museums, symphonies, and plays. It was very important to her parents that she "grow into a cultured young woman." It was always expected that she would attend Oxford University, just like her father had, and find herself a rich husband, just like her mother had.

But one day, only a few months into her first year at Oxford, she had realized that the life her mother had was not the life she wanted for herself. She had been smothered all her life by her parents, kept from doing what she loved. But she was 18 years old now - an adult - and she was free to do wanted. So she took off one day, taking nothing with her expect a change of clothes, some toiletries, a few hundred pounds, a bit of weed, and a pack of cigarettes. She got a job bussing tables at a diner and slept on a friend of a friend's couch.

Dudley met her a year later, when she was 19 and he was 24. They moved into a flat together, a crappy one they couldn't afford to furnish, and slept on a mattress in the middle of the room. They were young and carefree and the world was theirs to conquer. They drank too much, smoked too much, and stayed up too late, making love and dreaming about the future.

But Viv was a restless little thing, a bubbly ball of red hair and too much enthusiasm. London wasn't enough to hold her interest for long and two years after moving in together, she was gone. He spent a year trying to forget about her, and when he finally had gotten used to her absence, she returned. And he took her back, just like he had after all those fights they always used to have.

Three years later, he came home from work one day and she told him the news. Pregnant, she said. Two months in. They decided to keep the baby. They were adults after all. She was 27 and he was 32. They were both quite old enough to take care of a baby.

But there's a difference between age and maturity, and Viv lacked the latter. So seven months later, she left him with a baby girl and took off again.

This time for what seemed like good.

* * *

She called him in December, out of the blue.

"Hey, Dudley," she said. "It's Viv. I'm back in London again. I know you said that Hannah would be home for Christmas and I was wondering...would it be okay for me to stop by? I'd really like to meet her."

He'd almost told her no. The word had been on the tip of his tongue, but he just hadn't been able to bring himself to say it.

"Fine," he said instead. "But only if she wants to see you."

After they'd hung up, he'd written to Hannah, asking if she had any interest in meeting the mother who had abandoned her days after she was born. He hoped and prayed Hannah's reply would say something along the lines of: _No, of course not. You're the only parent I'll ever need._

Unfortunately, that was not the case. So on Christmas, just as he and Hannah were about to sit down to dinner, the doorbell rang. Hannah jumped up. "She's here!" she shouted, running to the door and pulling it open.

Dudley followed her, reaching the doorway a moment later, just as Viv and Hannah were getting their first glimpse of each other in nearly thirteen years.

"Hello, Hannah," she said, holding out a small, red box wrapped in a big green bow. "I brought you a gift."

Dudley noticed that her cheerful voice sounded a bit forced, her smile a bit strained.

Hannah grabbed the present excitedly. "I'll go open it in the living room," she said, scampering away.

Viv stood glued to her spot on the doorstep.

"I think she wants you to follow," Dudley said.

She shook her head, her eyes wide, looking like a deer in the headlights. "No," she whispered. "This was a mistake. Tell her I'm sorry, but something came up."

She turned to leave, but Dudley grabbed her arm. "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "You just got here. You _can't_ leave. She'll be heartbroken."

"I'm sorry," she replied, her voice cracking. "I thought this would be easier."

"Life isn't easy!" he snapped. "God, Viv, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do."

"I can't!" she said, tugging her arm out of his grip. "I'm sorry."

And then she was gone. Again. And Dudley was left behind to pick up the pieces. Again.

And a heartbroken girl chucked an unopened box into the bin. And went upstairs and cried.

* * *

**Stay tuned for year three!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Year 3**

"Dad!"

Hannah's voice filled the house as she charged down the stairs.

"Dad! Where are you?"

"In the kitchen, sweetheart," Dudley replied.

A moment later, his thirteen year old daughter appeared in the doorway. "Did you get soft drinks for tonight?" she asked, leaning against the wall. "Please tell me you did."

He turned off the faucet. "Was I supposed to?"

"Dad!" she exclaimed loudly, a look of dismay on her face. "Everyone's going to be here in, like, fifteen minutes!"

"We have water," he said. "And…beer."

She rolled her eyes. "My friends can't drink beer, Dad. And Tabitha doesn't like water."

"Who doesn't like water?" he asked. "That's ridiculous. Humans have been drinking water since the beginning of time."

"Can't you just run to the store really quick?" she asked, pouting. "Please, Daddy."

He sighed. "I can't, Hannah. There's not enough time. I think there's some orange juice in the fridge. Your friend Tabitha can make do with that."

"She's allergic to citrus."

"Jesus Christ," he murmured under his breath. "There's milk too. And tea. Please say she drinks one of those."

"I suppose so."

"Good," he said simply. "Because that's what she's getting."

At this point, Dudley was seriously regretting agreeing to host this barbecue. In a few days, it would be September 1st and Hannah would be heading back to Hogwarts for her third year. He had let her invite her two best friends, Jack and Tabitha, along with their families, to a barbecue as a sort of end of summer party. She was extremely excited, but he was completely overwhelmed. They didn't usually have company, and he wasn't used to playing the part of a good host.

"Is Grandma still coming to this?" Hannah asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes," he said. "Unfortunately."

"Why'd you invite her anyway?"

"I mentioned that we couldn't come over for dinner tonight. She asked why. I made the mistake of telling her the truth. So she invited herself over."

"Does she know Harry and his family are coming too?"

Dudley shook his head. "Nope, I thought I'd surprise her."

Hannah giggled, the corners of her eyes crinkling up. Dudley smiled. It was always a relief to see Hannah laughing. She hadn't done that much recently, not since Viv's little "visit" over the Christmas holidays. There had been something off about her since then. She seemed more distant. She used to nearly talk his ear off, telling him all sorts of random facts and trivia that she had read in her books and describing every little detail about her experiences at Hogwarts. Now she spent most of her time locked in her room. It wasn't that they never talked anymore, but it did seem like a much rarer occurrence. Then again, maybe it had nothing to with Viv. Maybe it was just a side effect of her becoming a teenager.

The doorbell rang.

"Can you get that, Hannah?" Dudley asked. "I need to check on the food."

* * *

Petunia sat in her lawn, her lips pursed, staring at Harry.

"You didn't tell me _he_ was coming," she had hissed in Dudley's ear the moment she had seen her nephew and his family.

He had merely shrugged in response and led them all out into the backyard, where Hannah had set up an eclectic mix of lawn chairs, porch furniture, and blankets in a circle for everyone to sit on. They all sat down to wait for the rest of the guests.

"So," Dudley said, awkwardly attempting to break the silence, "Hannah's friends and their families should be here any minute. Then we can start eating."

Everyone nodded, continuing to stare down at their shoes or up at the sky. Eventually it was Harry's daughter Lily who attempted to break the silence again.

"My name's Lily," she said, looking directly at Petunia. "I'm named after your sister."

Dudley bit his lip nervously, looking back and forth between his mother and the red-haired sixteen-year-old sitting across from her. _Please don't be rude_, he thought to himself. _Please. Please. Please._

Petunia's eyes widened for a moment, and then they returned to normal. "How…nice," she said stiffly, before glancing down at her watch. "When did you say the rest of your guests would be arriving, dear?" she asked him.

"Any minute," Dudley replied, his gaze focused on Lily, whose cheerful smile had been replaced by a frown.

Next it was Albus, Harry's second son, who spoke. "It's pretty crazy that this is the first time we're meeting you," he said, looking at Petunia, "considering you, like, raised our dad."

Dudley had a feeling that Harry hadn't told his kids much about her. They seemed oblivious to the fact that making conversation with her was bound to end badly, especially if they continued to bring up subjects such as her sister or Harry. The only thing worse that one of them could mention would be that dreaded word –magic.

"Mmm" was her only reply, as she lifted the corner of her mouth in an attempt at a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Merlin!" Harry's oldest son James exclaimed. "Do you need someone to pull that stick out of your arse for you? Would it kill you to be pleasant?"

Dudley nearly choked on his beer.

Albus, Lily, and Hannah all attempted to hide their laughter in various ways, by hiding their faces in their sleeves or coughing loudly.

Harry and Ginny exchanged exasperated looks, but didn't say anything. Dudley had a feeling that they were pretty used to James's behavior by now. Besides, James had only said what everyone was thinking.

Petunia wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I shouldn't be surprised," she said, looking directly at Harry. "You raised your son to be just as rude and arrogant as you always were."

"Mum…" Dudley said, hoping she could detect the warning in his voice.

James pulled out his wand. His sister let out a yelp. "James, put that away."

"Don't you dare insult my father!" he hissed, his eyes blazing. "He's a better person than you'll ever be."

"James," Ginny said, grabbing his wrist. "Put the wand away."

He turned to her, as if about to protest, but one look at her face shut him up. He tucked the wand away, and without making eye contact with her, muttered an apology to Petunia.

"I think I should go," Petunia said, standing up.

"No, Grandma. Stay," Hannah said. "Please. I want you to meet my friends."

Dudley thought it would be best not to mentioned that his mother probably had no interest in meeting Hannah's two friends, both of whom she probably considered "freaks" due to their magical abilities.

Petunia sighed heavily, but sat back down. "Fine, dear. I'll stay, but only because you want me to."

Hannah smiled happily.

Dudley could never quite understand what Hannah's opinion of her grandmother was. She always seemed quite amused when Dudley complained about her, and had on my many occasions joined in. But there was a part of her that seemed desperate for Petunia's approval and acceptance. She knew that her grandmother highly disapproved of magic and had been more than displeased when Hannah had chosen to go to Hogwarts. Because she was her only grandchild, Petunia had spoiled Hannah rotten when she was a little girl. But she had grown distant upon discovering Hannah was a witch. And Dudley couldn't help but think that Hannah –maybe even subconsciously – wanted nothing more than to have her grandmother's love again.

The latch on the gate clicked and everyone turned. Hannah's friend Tabitha was entering the backyard, along with her parents and younger twin brothers.

"Sorry we're late," she said, brushing her long dark hair out her eyes and running to sit down next to Hannah. "My mum is never ready on time."

Her mum rolled her eyes. "Hello, everyone," she said. "I'm Mirabella. This is my husband Adelphus and our sons Catigern and Thorfinn." She gestured toward the man standing beside her, each of his hands clasped around the hands of two young boys who couldn't have been older than five or six. He was a little on the short, stocky side with thin, graying hair. However he had kind eyes, just like his wife, and Dudley couldn't help but like the entire family immediately.

"It's nice to meet you," he said. "Please have a seat. We'll start eating whenever Jack and his parents arrive."

Petunia looked like she was in shock. "I'm sorry," she finally said, when Dudley shot her a questioning look. "But are you people actually serious with those names? I've never heard anything more ridiculous in my life. They're worse sounding than Albus and that's saying something."

"Hey!" Albus exclaimed, looking offended.

"Mother!" Dudley snapped. "Stop it. Now."

The arrival of Jack and his parents prevented another argument from breaking out.

"Sorry we're late," Jack's father said. "Nora was running a little late as usual." He gave a chuckle that Dudley assumed was meant to sound light-hearted but came off as more annoyed than anything else.

Dudley had forgotten how unkind Nora's husband seemed. Once again, he was gripping her arm tightly as they walked passed. Unbelievable, he thought to himself, shaking his head. Does he not think that poor woman has the ability to walk on her own?

They sat down in the closet available seats to Harry and Ginny, and Howard immediately scooted as close as possible to Dudley's cousin.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," he said, sticking out his hand. "I'm Howard Moseley. I can't tell you what an honor it is to meet you."

Harry smiled modestly, shaking his hand. "Your name sounds familiar," he said. "Do you work at the Ministry?"

Howard nodded enthusiastically, flashing a blindingly white smile. "Yes, I work in the Department of Magical Transportation – "

This Howard bloke certainly knew how to turn on the charm, didn't he? Not that his bit of information came as any sort of surprise. Even Dudley could tell that he was a good-looking guy. Tall, dark, and handsome. Too bad he seemed like a total jerk, especially when it came to how he treated his wife.

"Let's eat!" Hannah exclaimed. "I'm starving!"

* * *

Dudley looked around after everyone had finished eating. All the guests were sitting around contently, their plates and cups stacked in the grass at their feet, chatting together. Even Petunia was talking with Howard and actually looked like she didn't mind him too much.

Hannah, Jack, and Tabitha were sitting with Harry's three kids, all laughing at some story James was telling. When Hannah had started her first year at Hogwarts, Harry's kids had been much older than her. James had been in his seventh year, Albus in his sixth, and Lily in her fourth. But that hadn't stopped them from welcoming her into the Wizarding world with open arms. They were great kids, all three of them. Hannah, Jack, and Tabitha were all three in Ravenclaw house and Harry's kids were in Gryffindor, but that hadn't prevented them from becoming close.

Dudley stood up, picking up his dishes and silverware. "Hannah," he called across the yard. "Come help me clean up."

She turned around, pouting. "Dad," she whined, "James is in the middle of a story. Can't it wait?"

"Hannah," he said sternly.

"Please?" she begged.

Nora stood up. "Let her enjoy herself, Dudley," she said. "I'll help you."

"No, no," he said. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

She smiled. "It's really no trouble at all," she said, leaning down and collecting the dishes around her. "I do housework all the time. Though usually there's magic involved." She looked around. "Do you think it would attract your neighbors'' attention if I levitated all these dishes inside?"

He laughed. "Might not want to risk it."

Inside, Nora helped him load the dishwasher. As she extended her arm in front of her, he noticed a nasty-looking bruise in her wrist. He thought about the way Howard was always tightly gripping her and grimaced. But it wasn't until she brushed her hair out of the way and he got a good look at her face that he grew increasingly alarmed. There was a bruise around her eye. It was obviously old and nearly faded away, but nevertheless it was there.

"What happened to your eye?" he asked.

She looked up, nearly dropping the plate she was holding. "O-oh," she stammered. "It's…that's nothing. I, erm…walked into a glass door. Ridiculous, I know. I…I can be quite clumsy sometimes."

She quickly looked away and he could see that her hands were shaking.

"Oh," he said simply. "I see."

He felt a little sick. Was her husband really hitting her? What kind of man would lay a finger on a woman? Suddenly she looked so tiny and frail standing there in his kitchen. He hated to imagine how she looked at her own house, cowering in the corner in fear. It was hard to picture. She looked so put together, like one of those people who had control over every aspect of her life. Her hair was always perfect, styled into a sleek blonde bob. Her clothes were never wrinkled. And she actually wore pearls. Yes, pearls. Like some sort of 1950s housewife.

He opened his mouth to say something, though what he did not know. But before he had a chance, his mother appeared in the doorway.

"Dudley," she said. "I'm about to leave. But I'd like a word first." She glanced pointedly at Nora. "Alone."

He turned to Nora. "I'm sorry," he said. "Could you give us a minute?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, nodding. "If you need me for anything else, just holler."

After she had gone, Petunia turned to face her son. "Next time you invite me to something," she said, "would you please warn me beforehand that Harry is going to be there?"

"Mum," he said, "I didn't invite you. You invited yourself."

"You still could have told me!" she hissed.

"Goddamn it!" he shouted, slamming his fist down on the counter angrily.

Petunia took a step back, a shocked expression on her face.

"You haven't seen him in nearly thirty years!" he bellowed. "Can't you just get over your irrational hatred for him? He's your sister's son, for god's sake! How do you think Lily would feel if she saw the way you treated him growing up? You and Dad took him in when we were both a year old. You should have raised him like a son! He should have been like a brother to me. But instead you alienated him from the family, from me. Made me think I was better than him somehow. When I ran into him at King's Cross two years ago, I hadn't seen him in twenty-five years. And you now what? I blame you and Dad for that. We should have been brothers. But you didn't let that happen. You let your hatred and prejudice and jealously get in the way. And I'll never forgive you for that, Mother."

Petunia pursed her lips together into a thin line. "I see," she said after a long pause. "Well, I guess I'll just be going then. Give Hannah my love. Tell her…tell her I hope she enjoys herself at that school of hers this year."

Dudley watched his mother turn and leave the room. She disappeared around a corner and a moment later he heard the front door slam shut.

He sighed heavily, suddenly very tired. It had been a long day.

* * *

A few weeks after Hannah had left for Hogwarts, Dudley awoke to someone pounding on his front door. Groggily, he slipped out of bed and made his way to the door. It was only five in the morning. Why was someone knocking this early? He pulled open the door. There on his doorstep was Nora Moseley, looking more unkempt than he had ever seen her. Her hair matted and uncombed. Tears were streaming down her face. And she in her pajamas. Not the kind of pajamas he would have expected someone like her to wear either, just a baggy T-shirt and striped pajama bottoms.

She immediately threw herself into his arms, sobbing hysterically. "Nora?" he said, extremely alarmed. "Nora, what's wrong?"

She didn't answer, just continued crying, her tears soaking through his T-shirt. He took a step back, closing the door. And then he waited. Finally, after what felt like ages, she pulled back, wiping her face on her sleeve.

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffing. "I…I shouldn't have come. It's just…you were so kind at the barbecue the other day. And I needed someone. My parents…my parents moved to Australia a few years ago. There's no one else. I used to have friends, but he…he didn't like them."

"Nora," Dudley said, guiding her over to his couch, "please tell me what happened."

She sat down, looking around the room with bloodshot eyes. "I shouldn't have come," she said. "It's much too early. You must be so annoyed"

"Nora," he said again. "I'm not annoyed. Just tell me what's wrong."

She bit her lip, looking as if she was about to burst into tears all over again. "Turn on the light," she whispered.

Dudley did as he was told, gasping in horror when the light flooded the room, revealing what he hadn't been able to see in the dark. The bruises. There were a few on her face, and they covered her arms. She lifted her shirt and he saw that they covered her stomach and chest as well.

"Oh my god," he murmured. "Nora, did Howard do this to you?"

She nodded slowly. "He's hit me before," she said quietly. "But always just a slap or punch here and there. It was never like this, not until tonight." She let out a strangled sob." My wand was in the other room. I had no way to protect myself. He's so much stronger than me. And it hurt. Dudley, it hurt so badly."

He pulled her into his arms. "It'll be okay," he whispered. "You can stay here as long as you need. You can contact the authorities. They'll arrest him. You'll be okay. You don't have to go back to him. Ever."

"He used to be so nice," Nora murmured. "So charming and sweet. I met him at Hogwarts. He was a Ravenclaw and I was a Hufflepuff. We started going out in our seventh year and I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. He was so handsome and smart and such a good Quidditch player. All the girls wanted him, but he chose me." She paused, taking a deep breath. "A year after we graduated, I got pregnant. We were only nineteen, but we got married anyway. Six months after the wedding, Jack was born. And I was happy. I had a loving husband and a beautiful baby boy. I thought my life was perfect. And it was…for a while. But a three or four years ago, he got promoted. He started working later. He had so many more responsibilities. He was always so stressed and he started taking it out on me."

"Nora," Dudley said, a thought occurring to him. "Has he…has he ever hit Jack?"

She shook her head. "No, but I'm always so scared that he will. I don't know what I would do. He's sometimes so critical of that poor boy. It breaks my heart. I think he wanted a son who was…a bit more like him. He hates that Jack doesn't play Quidditch. And he doesn't like that his two best friends are girls either. He's always telling me that it's my fault that Jack didn't turn out more 'manly.' And he knows that Jack gets picked on, but he's always saying that he just needs to man up and take care of it himself."

"Nora," Dudley said gently. "You should get some sleep. Would you like to go lay down in Hannah's room?"

She nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Okay," he said, standing up. "We'll figure out what to do in the morning. For now just get some sleep."

She nodded sleepily. "Goodnight, Dudley."

"Goodnight, Nora."

* * *

**Hopefully I'll have more time to write, at least for the next couple months. I graduated from high school on Friday, so school won't be keeping me busy anymore. Or at least not until I start college in August.**

**Anyway, please review!**


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